All Poems

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Poem (You, my photographer, you, most aware)

© Delmore Schwartz

You, tiptoe on the rail to film a child!
The nude old woman swimming in the sea
Looked up from the dark water to watch you there;
Below, near the ballroom where the band still toiled,
The frightened, in their lifebelts, watched you bitterly -
You hypocrite! My brother! We are a pair!

For The One Who Would Not Take His Life In His Hands

© Delmore Schwartz

Athlete, virtuoso,
Training for happiness,
Bend arm and knee, and seek
The body's sharp distress,

Socrates Ghost Must Haunt Me Now

© Delmore Schwartz

Socrates ghost must haunt me now,
Notorious death has let him go,
He comes to me with a clumsy bow,
Saying in his disused voice,

In The Slight Ripple, The Mind Perceives The Heart

© Delmore Schwartz

In the slight ripple, the fishes dart
Like fingers, centrifugal, like wishes
Wanton. And pleasures rise
as the eyes fall

War Girls

© Jessie Pope

'There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,

And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,

The Journey Of A Poem Compared To All The Sad Variety Of Travel

© Delmore Schwartz

A poem moves forward,
Like the passages and percussions of trains in progress
A pattern of recurrence, a hammer of repetetiveoccurrence

Concerning The Synthetic Unity Of Apperception

© Delmore Schwartz

"Trash, trash!" the king my uncle said,
"The spirit's smoke and weak as smoke ascends.
"Sit in the sun and not among the dead,
"Eat oranges! Pish tosh! the car attends.

Prothalamion

© Delmore Schwartz

"little soul, little flirting,
little perverse one
where are you off to now?
little wan one, firm one
little exposed one...
and never make fun of me again."

The First Night Of Fall And Falling Rain

© Delmore Schwartz

The common rain had come again
Slanting and colorless, pale and anonymous,
Fainting falling in the first evening
Of the first perception of the actual fall,

Sonnet: O City, City

© Delmore Schwartz

Whence, if ever, shall come the actuality
Of a voice speaking the mind's knowing,
The sunlight bright on the green windowshade,
And the self articulate, affectionate, and flowing,
Ease, warmth, light, the utter showing,
When in the white bed all things are made.

He Knows All There Is To Know. Now He Is Acquainted With The Day And Night

© Delmore Schwartz

Whose wood this is I think I know:
He made it sacred long ago:
He will expect me, far or near
To watch that wood immense with snow.

Poem (In the morning, when it was raining)

© Delmore Schwartz

In the morning, when it was raining,
Then the birds were hectic and loudy;
Through all the reign is fall's entertaining;
Their singing was erratic and full of disorder:

From: A King Of Kings, A King Among The Kings

© Delmore Schwartz

Come, let us rejoice in James Joyce, in the greatness of this poet,
king, and king of poets
For he is our poor dead king, he is the monarch and Caesar of English,
he is the veritable King of the King's English

From The Graveyard By The Sea

© Delmore Schwartz

(After Valery)
This hushed surface where the doves parade
Amid the pines vibrates, amid the graves;
Here the noon's justice unites all fires when

Poem (Remember midsummer: the fragrance of box)

Remember midsummer: the fragrance of box, of white
roses
And of phlox. And upon a honeysuckle branch
Three snails hanging with infinite delicacy

This Is A Poem I Wrote At Night, Before The Dawn

This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn:
- After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles
soaring,
After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the

Archaic Bust Of Apollo

We cannot know the indescribable face
Where the eyes like apples ripened. Even so,
His torso has a candelabra's glow,
His gaze, contained as in a mirror's grace,

The Greatest Thing In North America

Under the famous names upon the pediment:
Thales, Aristotle,
Cicero, Augustine, Scotus, Galileo,
Joseph, Odysseus, Hamlet, Columbus and Spinoza,
Anna Karenina, Alyosha Karamazov, Sherlock Holmes.

Tired And Unhappy, You Think Of Houses

Tired and unhappy, you think of houses
Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening,
While snow's white pieces fall past the window,
And the orange firelight leaps.

Sonnet Suggested By Homer, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Paul Vakzy, James Joyce, Et Al.

Let me not, ever, to the marriage in Cana
Of Galilee admit the slightest sentiment
Of doubt about the astonishing and sustaining manna
Of chance and choice to throw a shadow's element